


This Story

by Emerald_motherbird



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Wilbur Soot - Fandom
Genre: (sort of?), Alternate Universe - Blue Sonder (Video Blogging RPF), I Tried, I don't know how to write tags, Idk what i'm doing, also, enjoy this trashfire, highkey venting my own issues into these characters? its more likely than you'd think, i really don't know how to write tags for this, it went kinda off the rails like away from the actual au storyline, its just crazy and idk man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:06:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29855067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald_motherbird/pseuds/Emerald_motherbird
Summary: (I don't know what's going on)The Blue Sonder AU sort of.I will credit the creator of that AU when I remember who it is sorryBasically, Wilbur and Techno meet in the nether and powers and such, and they have to get to the overworld to find Phil, but they meet some unsavory sorts along the way and y'know, bonding and stuff.Wilbur can teleport pog, Techno is Piglin hybrid pog (also prince of hell, so heck yeah)Idk folks, this isn't really planned out that well, I just write as it comes to me, so I'm sorry for inconsistent updates and weird storytelling.(Also, I have a whole thing about Phil, so don't mind me, I will explain in the notes somewhere.)
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

Wilbur had never traveled much before. He and his father moved to the underworld when he was 4 after his mother passed away. His father didn't talk much, and Wilbur dared not mention his mother after the move.

When his father died in the mines, he decided that his home in the human settlement of the nether mines was not a place he wanted to be anymore. The memories alone were suffocating enough without the dry heat and the constant flow of people like lava threading in and out of the mines day after day.

The dust wasn’t good for anyone, and he figured his best bet was to get out of Hell before he got any sicker.

It was a cool morning (and by cool, I mean it was about 32 degrees Celsius (that’s still pretty hot, look it up)). Wilbur climbed out of bed and stretched his sleepy limbs into motion. He had a long and emotionally charged day ahead of him, and he wasn’t sure exactly where he was headed. The ambient light from outside didn’t help him discern the time ever, though he’d heard stories that on Earth, the light moved throughout the day, making that possible. His father’s watch splayed lovingly across his bedside table told him it was 8 am. Not too bad for a fresh start.

He didn't remember much about the Overworld. He knew it was bright and green. A colour he hadn't seen in years but was permanently ingrained in his mind. He remembered chirping, though he couldn't recall what made the sound. He also remembered wind. He remembered it blowing through his mother's hair gracefully, and gently touselling his and his fathers'. His father used to tell him stories about the Overworld on nights where the silence didn't close him in. He'd talk about the rivers and sing the songs of woodland nymphs and sprites. He'd recite the Protector's Rhyme to him sometimes. Phil taught him that.

Phil was apparently 20 years younger than Will's parents, but they'd lived together as a sort of family for a while when they were young. The stories about Phil were Wilbur's favourites. Phil had massive gray wings and blonde hair. He protected the forest from bad people. He made sure no harm came to the trees and spirits, so long as he was there. Wilbur thought he sounded very noble. It was these stories that lead Wilbur to his conclusion the night before.

He had to go find Phil. He'd know what Wilbur should do. At the very least, he'd be able to offer some comfort to Will for a short time. He was sure Phil was a nice man if his parents liked him as much as his father said.

Wilbur sighed and got out of bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He tried to ignore the memories that covered the walls of his family home as he packed his bag and headed down the hallway into the kitchen. Wilbur really tried not to pay attention, but every single time he so much as looked in the direction of the kitchen, he was hit with the reminder that his parents weren’t there to greet him with warm smiles.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and started packing his bag with water and other supplies. He was sure he’d need some kind of weapon at some point (Hell was a ruthless place), but his family was never big on violence or fighting. Nevertheless, after searching through one of his mom’s old chests, he found what he was looking for. A pair of twin knives, hilted with blue lapis and sapphire and encrusted with gold detailing. The blades were netherite; a rarity in the Underworld, and not only valuable but deadly.  
After a little while longer packing, Wilbur found himself at the front door, ready to leave.

He hesitated.

Wilbur refused to turn around because he knew if he did he’d cave in and stay, but he turned his head just far enough so that he could see his parents’ urns sitting next to each other on the bookshelf.  
Something was in his eye. He supposed it was just the dry air getting to him. Tears flowed as he repeated that thought in his mind, willing it to be true. He had to keep reminding himself that having no reason to stay was a great reason to go, but it still felt like he was wrenching a piece of him out of his chest as he looked around his home for the last time.  
Wilbur opened the door to the heat and fire of the Underworld and stepped off the doorstep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur meets an unusual friend (?) and they gotta get out of the nether forest before things get any worse than they already are.

He checked his watch.

8:25pm

It had been three days since Wilbur left his childhood home. It was not getting any darker, but he knew that if he stuck around in the open much longer, the "night" would attract all kinds of unsavory sorts- and not just monsters. He stopped briefly to let out a coughing fit, doubled over in the blue nether forest.

The trees bounced a pale turquoise light from the lava and glowstone off their leaves, gifting Wilbur with a sickly complexion. After Wilbur was done hacking up his lungs, he heard a crack.  
He reached for his left holster.

“Who’s there?”

After a moment of silence, Wilbur saw a flash of pink out of the corner of his eyes.

“Show yourself, now!” He shouted.

Then, something hit him from behind and he felt a blade enter his right shoulder. He whipped his head around and he staggered backward, slamming against a tree trunk. His shoulder screamed and he tried to stop tears from pooling under his eyes.

In front of him stood a piglin. Sort of. The kid looked almost human, but he had short tusks and small pig-like ears peeking out from under his straight, dark pink hair. Most menacingly of all, he was holding a long purple netherite sword.

Wilbur fumbled for his blades, and held them out in front of him, though he barely knew how to use them. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder as much as he could, he tried not to shake as he addressed the stranger.

“What do you want?”

The kid glared at him with unrelenting fury, and if Wilbur wasn’t looking as hard as he was, he would’ve missed the twinkle of fear in his eyes.

“Who are you?”

“Answer me first,” Wilbur said, becoming increasingly aware of the pain in his shoulder and the blood soaking through his brown trench coat. The kid huffed and sheathed his blade.

“You don’t look very dangerous.” He said. Wilbur almost took offense, but he knew it was true. Other than being tall, there weren’t many intimidating qualities to him. He cautiously lowered his blades but didn’t sheath them.

“I’m leavin’.” The kid said. “I don’t want anything from you, I just thought you were… someone else.”

Wilbur stared at the kid. “Is that why you fucking stabbed me?”

The kid shrugged. “Sorry.”

Wilbur relaxed a bit more and sheathed his blades, hugging his arm. “’S okay.”

“So,” The kid glanced around, checking for unwelcome eavesdroppers. “Why are you out here in the middle of nowhere?”

Wilbur sighed.

“I'm leaving.” He said, careful not to tell too much.

“Where are you headed?”

Wilbur thought for a moment. He honestly didn’t have a destination in mind other than Phil (who was somewhere in the Overworld), and he was only vaguely aiming for the only entrance to the Overworld he knew of, which was another two days travel away and heavily guarded. If he wanted to get through, he’d have to be very lucky.

“I’m headed North.” He didn’t want to give his plans away to some stranger, who despite looking genuinely sorry for it, had just literally stabbed Will in the back. It wasn’t a complete lie, he was headed North, but he didn’t say how far North.

After a moment’s pause, Wilbur caught sight of a panicked look on the kid’s face. He knew Piglins had an excellent sense of smell and could smell specific people’s blood from kilometers away if they were on high alert.

“Do… do you need a traveling partner?” He asked finally. He'd have felt bad if he just left the kid alone in the woods without offering, though he doubted he really needed Wilbur, other than perhaps for emotional support. The kid looked up at him, suddenly letting his expression reveal the fear Wilbur knew had been there all along.

“No, no I don’t, besides, I don’t think you’d be much help to me.” He said, regaining his mask of fearlessness. His ear flicked towards the sound of yelling in the forest nearby, which Wilbur caught as well.

“I have food if you want to stay with me for the night.” Wilbur offered again.

The pink-haired boy hesitated and was about to answer when the sound of yelling became louder.

“Yes, yes okay fine, let’s move!”

He took off through the woods, Wilbur struggling to keep up with him despite his legs being considerably longer.  
They ran to the edge of the woods, which bordered on a cliff’s edge. Wilbur noticed a foothold on the edge. A river of lava flowed beneath it, but the netherrack, notorious for crumbling, looked surprisingly stable.

“Shit.” Wilbur heard the kid mumble, turning back to the woods.

“Wait,” Wilbur said pointing.

"It'll never hold-"

Wilbur said nothing but gave the kid a look which he hoped portrayed that he should trust Will and that there really was no other choice. The kid was first to the foothold, leaving Wilbur alone at the top of the cliff. He tended up when he heard people stomping through the woods. Carefully, he stepped in front of the foothold, hoping to distract whoever seemed to be after this pink stranger.

Just as the boy’s head disappeared over the edge, five armed people burst out of the woods.

“You there!” One shouted. Wilbur didn’t appreciate his tone, but he didn’t mention it.

“Have you seen the young prince?”

Wilbur didn’t hesitate. Humans weren’t known for being good liars, because no one ever knew when they were lying.

“I wouldn’t know him to see him, but I haven’t encountered anybody on my travels tonight.”

The guard weighed his statement, half of which was true. Wilbur noticed he was dressed in royal armour. Expensive, fancy, and nearly unbreakable. He was glad the kid took his advice and didn't stick around to fight.

“Why are you out at this time of night? It’s dangerous.”

Wilbur flashed his blades, pretending to be more confident with them than he was. He thanked whatever gods were watching that he didn’t drop one.

“I think I’ll be alright, and my business is my own.”

The guard nodded. He seemed weary, but trusting of the human boy. Wilbur couldn't tell if the guard was human too, but assumed he wasn't. All royal guards were issued helmets that covered their faces almost completely, but the way this man spoke lead Wilbur to believe that his accent wasn't just some posh thing from a city settlement, but rather a speech impediment from some kind of mutation or adaptation.

“You will alert the palace guard if you see the prince at any point during your travels. He’s a hybrid.”

“Well, that seems like a pretty tough thing to miss.”

The guard nodded, satisfied that Wilbur would do as he was told, and turned back toward the forest, his company leaving with him. They tromped away through the woods, leaving Wilbur alone at the top of the cliff. He relaxed his jaw. He hadn’t realized how stressful that had been for him until it was over. But at least now he knew who this stranger was who was currently waiting for him at the bottom of a lava chasm.

The crown prince of Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! I love you!  
> Technoblade pog!  
> I'm very excited for this story to get going, though I'm not entirely sure where it is that it is going.
> 
> So, I'm still very stressed out, but I have a few chapters of this saved up to post so that's what this is.  
> Do you like it? I'm not very good at creative writing anymore, I haven't written much in the past two years and I genuinely haven't read an entire book (that wasn't for school) in like almost three years. So you can understand why my wiring is a little messy and inconsistently styled. I'm trying.  
> Anyways, I hope your day went better than yesterday, whatever it may be!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yep, another chapter. this may or may not be a very long fic. Personally I like really really long fics because I when I like an au I wanna see as much as possible from it in one go, so yeah.
> 
> In this chapter,

That night, the two travelers sat together in a cave at the bottom of the lava chasm. Wilbur bandaged his shoulder, great full the guards hadn’t noticed the wound. He didn’t want to waste his precious water washing the blood out of his coat, so he instead left Wilbur had given the prince some of his bread and jam, and the prince marveled at the taste.

“What is this?” He asked, holding it up.

“What do you mean? It’s bread.”

The prince shook his head gently.

“No, the sweet stuff.”

Wilbur looked at him confused. “It’s jam.” He said. “Have you never had jam before?”

The prince shook his head again.

“My parents brought it with them when we moved here. It’s an old preserve. Peach, I believe.”

The prince seemed intrigued at the mention of his parents.

“Where is your family from that they could find such a thing?”

Wilbur hesitated, wondering if the princeling was to be trusted.

“I’m not sure I can trust you with that information just yet.” He said honestly.

The prince nodded in understanding.

“Okay.” He said. “I guess I should tell you why I’m on the run from the royal guard though. I’m sorry I put you in that situation.”

Wilbur waved him off. “It’s no big deal.”

“No, I should have... I...” the prince trailed off. “You don’t deserve to be put in danger on my behalf.”

Wilbur didn’t expect this kindness and understanding from the stranger he’d just met in the forest, never mind the prince of Hell. 

“Alright, well, don’t mention it. I’d do it for anyone. You’re not special, your highness.”

The prince looked as though he wasn’t quite sure how to take that, so he stayed silent. That night, though both partners had a million questions for the other racing through their heads, they fell asleep in silence, waking each other to take watch throughout the night. When the morning came, the air seemed thick. Wilbur wasn’t awoken by his watch, but by fiery pain in his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” The prince asked, noticing Wilbur’s discomfort.

He coughed and stood up gingerly. “I think it’s infected.” He said. “Fucking hell.”

Wilbur tried his best to hide the pain throughout the day's journey, but he knew he wasn’t doing it well because every so often, the prince would carefully ask if he wanted to stop for a rest.

Wilbur waved off his kindness every time, though a rest was becoming increasingly desired, and they trudged on through Hell. Wilbur knew where he was going, but the Prince didn’t.

The closer they got to the gateway, the cooler the air got. It was hardly noticeable, but Wilbur was paying attention. With every step, Wilbur’s shoulder ached more and the darkness in his lungs grew. He knew that if he didn’t get to a healer soon, the consequences of his recent actions could be deadly. But he didn’t tell the Prince anything. Though they began to talk and their relationship began leaning more towards friends, Wilbur still didn’t trust the princeling enough to divulge his plan to him. Not yet.

As another night passed, and Wilbur’s pain became harder to hide, he realized that it would be extremely difficult- if not impossible- for him to get through the gateway like this. Especially with a partner. He considered parting ways multiple times in the last day, but ultimately, he couldn’t leave the prince alone to fend for himself. Not that Wilbur was really protecting him, but he’d feel bad if something were to happen to him and he wasn’t there to try to stop it.

It was strange that he felt this way so soon, he’d only known the guy for two days. But those two days were spent in close quarters, sharing and talking almost constantly, and when not, they fell into a comfortable and understanding silence. Wilbur had never had this before with another person. It was nice, he decided.

As they neared the gateway, they hid behind a large boulder. Wilbur dissolved into another coughing fit, which was becoming increasingly frequent as he'd been sleeping outside each night. The dust and soot in the air of Hell weren't safe for humans to breathe without a mask, but those were only provided to the rich. Mineworkers were given cloths which they were told did the same thing, but everyone knew they were basically a placebo to make the working class shut up. Though Wilbur had never worked in the mines himself, he'd lived close enough and breathed everything his father brought in with him after his day's work to develop asthma. Usually, he could remedy his attacks by going inside or breathing through a wet cloth for a while, but as of the last few days, his water had been rationed and there wasn't enough between the two partners, to begin with, let alone for Wilbur's lungs. The prince put his hand on Wilbur’s back as he hacked and spat in the bushes nearby, hoping not to draw any attention to themselves despite the noise.

“Shit,” Wilbur muttered. “Did I blow it?”

“Everything looks fine,” The prince said. “Nobody even looked up. Typical.”

Wilbur didn’t have time to wonder what his friend meant by that last statement. He crouched down, clutching his shoulder and swaying slightly.

“Okay, so my original plan is kinda fucked, because of… y’know.”

The prince nodded sheepishly, knowing that Wilbur was referencing the stab wound.

“Why are we here again?”

He realized had to tell the prince his plan. He’d run out of time and options. Wilbur had fought with himself over this constantly for the past two days and hadn't yet come up with a viable solution that didn't involve ruining some aspect of either his plan or his moral code. He decided to just spit it out.

“I’m going to the Overworld.” He said.

“Why?” the prince said, visibly concerned but not as surprised as Wilbur expected. “It’s incredibly dangerous there.”

Wilbur hesitated, but there was no going back. “My parents were from there, and they used to talk about this guy they knew, he would be a grown man now. I want to find him.”  
The prince’s eyebrows were high and pressed together with concern.

“Look,” Wilbur raised his hand to brush through his hair nervously and winced at the pain it brought to his shoulder. “You don’t have to come.”  
The prince put his hand on Wilbur’s good shoulder, steadying him. Wilbur took that as an answer.

“Okay. We’ve got to be really careful. I only have three coins left, so we can’t bribe anyone. Got any ideas?”  
The prince raised an eyebrow at Will.

“We could just fight our way through.” He said.

Wilbur gave him a look that said, “are you fucking crazy? Look at me, then look at them. Now look back at me. no way.”

But the prince didn’t seem swayed by Wilbur’s expression. He unsheathed his sword and put his hand on the rock, about to jump over.

“Wait!” Wilbur said, grabbing his arm. “They’ll recognize you.”

The two of them looked around frantically for something to use as a disguise of some kind. A little way into the woods, half-hidden behind a blue wood tree, Wilbur saw a piglin skull. He pointed.

When the prince retrieved the skull, Wilbur tied some rope around it from the eye-sockets around the back so that the prince could wear it over his face.  
“Perfect.” The prince said, putting it on. “Stay here.”

“But-“

The prince was already gone. He leaped over the boulder and Wilbur ducked down. Through the sounds of screaming and fighting, Wilbur saw the ground tilting beneath him. He suddenly felt nauseous, but the feeling passed as quickly as it came. When he looked up at the trees, their branches seemed to sway and bend in a wind that didn’t exist, and Wilbur felt sweat beading down his cheek. He barely heard the prince yelling for him.

“Partner!”

At this moment, they both realized that neither knew the other’s real name, and they both cursed themselves.

“Help!” The prince’s voice carried over to Wilbur, who stood up from behind the rock and furiously tried to blink away the dizziness, but it only made it worse. He unsheathed one of his blades and focused on where he saw the prince struggling on the ground against a tall guard. Wilbur was taller, so he would be fine. At least, that was the small thing he was holding onto as he reached out into the oblivion inside his mind, and grabbed hold of the spot on the ground right behind the prince’s opponent. He pulled himself into that space, barely containing a scream of pain, and blindly swung his blade out in front of him. When he opened his eyes, the guard was on the ground, and the prince was staring up at Wilbur in a mix of awe, fear, and relief. They made eye contact for a split second before Wilbur’s vision blurred and darkness crept in from the edges of his sight. He fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I love you.  
> Thank you for reading! I have to go apply for college and bursaries, which is terrifying, so enjoy this while I suffer. Thank you :)  
> I high-key hate the lack of description I put into this chapter, so I might edit it later.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur and Techno escape the Underworld and meet someone important on the other side.  
> (whoever could it be.)

Techno was so fuckin confused.  
What the fuck? On the fifth time he’d tried to escape, he just happened to meet this kid, he assumed was roughly his age (17), who lied better than anyone he’d ever met, and just teleported and saved him for the second time in three days?  
What the fuck was going on?  
Techno looked up at his friend, who had just been over behind the boulder, and was now suddenly here, in a swirl of black and blue mist, swinging his blade out in front of him and taking out the last guard between them and the gateway to the Overworld. He tried to find his friend’s brown eyes, but they had turned completely black.  
“Partner?”  
His friend collapsed to the ground, landing hard on the rocky floor. Techno quickly moved to pick him up off the ground, knowing that if he really was human (or at least part human) his skin would burn if he lay on the ground for too long.  
He slung his friend’s good arm over his shoulder and they made their way towards the gateway. Their bags held nothing of importance, except food and water, but they couldn’t stay. Techno couldn’t risk leaving his friend to go back for them, he could already hear guards racing over from other stations around the borders of Hell. They were out of time.  
Jeez, why are you so tall? His friend’s limp body was half-dragging behind him as he pulled them into the tunnel.  
The air became cooler, and he noticed a colour he’d never seen before. It looked wrong to his eyes. He didn’t know what it was. It was almost the colour of the teal forests that peppered Hell, but not quite. He wondered if his friend would know. He’d ask him if he ever woke up.  
When he woke up.  
The air only got colder, and the walls of the tunnel only got stranger. As they approached the top, Techno’s teeth were chattering and his senses were registering a plethora of new colours and smells. Even the taste of the air was different. It was sweeter almost. He would have perhaps enjoyed the experience a lot more if his friend wasn’t hanging unconscious off of his shoulder.  
Finally, they reached the top of the tunnel. Techno had expected guards, a fight, or at least a gate. But what iron bars had once perhaps covered the tunnel’s end were now pulled back and overtaken by vines and grasses of this strange new colour. Everything was this colour. And blue, but not like the turquoise blue of the nether forests. It felt welcoming, despite Techno’s feeling that they were being watched. He hoped that whatever lurked up here would just leave them alone. He needed to figure out how to help his friend.  
Across the way, Techno spotted a… forest? He made his way towards it anyway. The trees were white and black. He expected them to be hot when he touched their bark, but they were surprisingly cool. He laid his friend down in the grass against the trunk of one of the trees and pulled off his mask.  
His friend’s eyes had been bleeding. The blood was dried and dark against his cheeks, but the way it pooled under his eyes led Techno to believe that it had something to do with the blackness he’d seen there earlier.  
Techno pulled back his friend’s coat to look at his shoulder. It was definitely infected. It was ugly and still partially bleeding. His friend’s face was pale and slightly blue in colouration. He wondered if it had to do with his illness(es?) or just the cold temperature of the Overworld.  
There was something wrong with his friend. He knew that his shoulder was infected, and he could see the black colouration of blood poisoning creeping up his neck. Techno shuddered to look at it. He also knew that his friend had terrible lungs. If he really was a human, it would make some sense as to why he was so sick. One of the only places humans could live and work in the Underworld was the arenas, the palace, or the mines. The poorer population usually got stuck with the last option, which wouldn't have been as much of a problem if they had the lungs of a piglin. But humans' bodies weren't meant for the Underworld's harsh environment. Though Techno was beginning to wonder just how "human" his friend really was, and how much he had his from Techno.  
As time wore on, Techno became increasingly paranoid. There was someone watching them. He knew it. He was telling himself that he shouldn't worry about his friend, but he couldn't help but care for him. The prospect of someone out to get either of them was making Techno's neck hairs stand on edge. Maybe it was a palace guard, here to take them back and let his are friend die alone on the streets. Maybe it was his father himself, here to beat him senseless for leaving again. Maybe it was-  
A spirit.  
Techno pulled out his sword and pointed it at the newcomer, snarling ferociously.  
“I’m here to help.” The stranger said. He had shoulder-length blonde hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. His peculiar accent threw Techno off for a moment. The stranger was dressed in the same weird colour Techno couldn’t name, and perhaps worst of all, he had light gray wings sprouting from his back.  
“What are you? Some kind of angel?” Techno spat. “Get away from us.”  
The stranger didn’t seem intimidated by Techno. In fact, he took a step forward, closer to them.  
“Let me heal your friend. I won’t let any more of his blood stain my forest.”  
Techno cautiously lowered his blade.  
“How do I know we can trust you?” He asked.  
Just then, his friend’s voice sounded from behind him. Techno turned to see his partner's head lifting slightly up to see their new company. His brown hair was messy and falling in front of his eyes, and his skin was still the same sickly blue colour. Techno couldn't tell what expression his friend was making. It was a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and utter bewilderment.  
“Phil?”  
The man in front of Techno suddenly changed. His gaze softened and he looked almost human as he seemed to recognize Techno’s friend’s face.  
“Henry?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya, thank you so much for reading, please leave a comment and talk to me, I am so lonely and stressed out and I love you. <3  
> I am so stressed out right now, I'm graduating soon, and life is just crazy and of course, just the weight of everything has recently come down around me so yeah, I'm using this fic/ writing in general to get through everything. Hopefully, I don't spend too much time writing though, and actually, get my life together before the end of the school year, but who knows.


End file.
